


Das Rheingold

by Neinja (Kanja)



Series: D - O - W - N [3]
Category: Far Cry 3
Genre: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2018-02-10 04:13:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2010507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kanja/pseuds/Neinja
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason Brody is forced to torture his own brother, discovering how far he is willing to go to complete a mission. Riley Brody begins to learn a dark truth about himself. This is an AU take on the torture scene. WARNING for sibling incest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Das Rheingold

Hoyt’s office shudders in the aftermath of an off-shore explosion, Wagner's sonic drama spinning on the victrola. Bombastic or not, Jason still thinks it’s really fucking unsettling that his new boss is prancing round and round to Ride of the Valkyries.

 

_"I can offer you travel to slave markets in Rio, Hong Kong, New York."_

 

Hoyt doesn't even realize that he is training his successor. He does not realize that he has planted the seeds of his own coup. Jason -- and Vaas, who has been somberly occupying a dark corner of Hoyt's office since their arrival -- are going to get away with this.

 

Then, Hoyt ups the ante.

 

_"Now, there's something I'd like you to do for me. I have a prisoner downstairs. I want you to find out who he is, who his benefactors are, then, I want you to beat him until he can't stand up._

_“Oh, I'll keep my eye on the camera feed. I so rarely get to watch another professional at work. Hey! Don't disappoint me. Be sure to see how he performs -- I've sold him to a client in Yemen who likes young boys with a lot of FIGHT, if you catch my drift. Go now. Go on."_

 

Some gnarled old ex-whatever with tattoos and a German accent leads him down to the hole. Jason's nostrils are flooded with the smell of mold and blood and shit and piss. The German motions to a cell, then respectfully steps away. Jason's accomplice seems like he has a heavy head today.

 

The cell awaits him. The moans emanating from the shadows sound painfully familiar.

 

Realization sets in like a heart attack. The prisoner awaiting him inside the grungy cell is not just some native unlucky enough to cross paths with Hoyt’s “recruiters.”

 

It’s his brother.

 

It’s his _fucking **brother**_.

 

Jason cannot breathe.

 

 _You do this, hermano… Hoyt trusts you_. Vaas had prepped them before they ever boarded the chopper for Hoyt’s island, bringing him uniforms, schooling him on appropriating the privateers’ particular mercenary scowl. He coached him on a coarse dialect. He let Jason know that to pull off this type of infiltration, he would have to abandon himself to one thing and one thing only: the mission. _You’re gonna have to believe all the lies -- really fucking believe them. Trust me, motherfucker, I been doing this a long, long time..._

 

But surely this is a different story. This is his kid brother. Unlike the rest, Riley has never once betrayed him. Now, Jason thinks back to his orders, really considering the undertones of Hoyt’s directive.

 

Hoyt wants him to violate their captive.

 

For the first time since he embraced the path of the warrior, Jason honestly begins to doubt himself. Try as he might, he can come up with no way to get Riley out of here intact and unscarred. For now, though, it’s too late for regrets. The path he’s chosen stretches like an infernal valley before him. There is no way to go but forward.

 

He’s unaware that for Riley, this altercation is simply a continuation of the life he knows now. Another sequel in Hoyt’s franchise of agony. Pain has been his world since their first contact with Vaas’s men. For as much of his hazy life in this prison as he can remember, his days have revolved around the aching, throbbing pain of the bullet wound in his shoulder, the searing discomfort of his split lip and battered nose.

 

Riley hears the door to his cell squeaking open. What's the point of lifting his head? It'll just be another one of Hoyt's goons, come to howl and beat at the bars of his cage. They don't mess with Riley like they do the other prisoners; for some reason, the big dog wants him fresh, and Riley ain't arguing.

 

Something about the presence of his visitor, though, something about his breathing, maybe his aura, if that's even a thing, makes him lift his head.

 

 _Jason_.

 

"No way..." Riley gasps. "J--"

 

For his recognition, Riley’s mouth is grasped and held tight. He is strangled by fingers that plunge into his throat.

 

The visitor speaks with the same gruff, menacing tone proudly sported by all the rest of the privateers. If this is his brother, he’s managed an authenticity that Riley, with a month of experience under his belt, finds flawless. "Who are you? What is your name?"

 

"Wh--" Riley is so dazed, so completely uncertain. He ducks back in his chair, trying to spit out the metal taste of his brother -- his captor, whoever the hell he is. "Who are you?" he demands hoarsely.

 

Rather than answer, Riley sees his brother’s grotesque effigy scanning the area, appraising the monitoring equipment in the corner of the ceiling.

 

" _Don't say a word. Don’t act like you know me."_ Jason keeps his voice low and cold. It occurs to Riley that his brother thinks no one can hear them if he speaks in a hush. _"I'm here to... get you out."_

 

"What!?" Riley sputters. Blood flecks across his lip, but to the kid's credit, he averts his eyes and shields his face. _"J-Jason?"_ he whispers. _"Where's Grant?"_

 

"He's not here, but I _am_. I'm going to get you out of here."

 

Riley is quick enough to note the way Jason poises himself when he speaks. He turns his face away from the camera when he is speaking as his brother. But when he is facing the monitor, all bets are off.

 

" **What is your name**?!" He picks Riley up by the cuff of his shirt , lifting him off the seat, eyes cold and black as coal.

 

"R-Riley." Riley's eyes meet his, and for a moment, there is only some kind of serenity reflected there, some kind of all-encompassing trust that swallows him soon after. That is when Riley widens his eyes and begins to struggle. "Let me go," he yelps, glancing at Jason's bloody fist. One glance up at Jason again, and it's clear what his cue is here. If his brother is going to play the part of a merciless slaver, then he is prepared to accept what it means to be the enslaved.

 

Riley’s cheek bulges with tension. He’s ready.

 

Through a single look, they are in perfect synchronization. Jason doesn’t pull punches; he whips Riley across the cheek, leaving his bones rattling and his neck aching. He waits until Riley’s head lulls forward to hiss, _"He-- Riley he wants me to..."_ Jason can barely choke out the words. He has trouble elaborating between a mumbling stutter. _"He wants me to test how you perform. My cover-- I need to--"_

 

Riley's ears are ringing from the blow, so misses much of the point at first. The only thing he knows is that his world is crashing down, so he grabs on to the first thing he can reach.

 

His brother. But not really. Riley's first thought is that Jason feels like stone now, cool, impenetrable muscle beneath his hands. Not like his brother, who is warm like the sun resides beneath his skin and always, always grinning.

 

Not like his brother, who is never there when Riley needs him. In the past, Jason has had a thousand missed chances to come through for Riley. If there’s any particular emotion that Riley equates with Jason, it’s ‘disappointment.’

 

The scowling privateer before him is a different story. When Riley falls, this man’s arms are strong and there to catch him. Riley believes with no doubt in his mind that these arms will be the ones to take him far away from here.

 

"Whoever you are..." Riley says after a deep breath, meeting Jason's eyes levelly. "It doesn't matter what you fucking do to me." That’s the important thing. That’s the thing that Jason has to know. But there isn’t any time to ruminate upon whether or not his brother gets the memo; Riley spits blood on Jason's boots and lets everyone with access to the monitors know that, charade or not, he will fight like a Brody. "You aren't getting **shit** out of my family."

 

"You're going to be sold, boy." Jason’s just as severe an actor. They’re really putting Liza out of business here. Before Riley really knows what’s happening, Jason has a knife in his hand and a knee shoved between Riley’s legs, pinning him wide open while he traces a sharp line from Riley’s wobbly knees to his groin. “You’re gonna be a slave. You’ll suck dick and get your shit pushed in. The only death you have to look forward to is drowning in a pool of your own blood while some sick fuck busts a nut all over your pretty face.”

 

The knife emphasizes Jason’s point, tapping the hollow of Riley’s cheek.

 

"Now, Riley. Give me a last name and maybe I’ll play gentle."

 

Riley cannot take his eyes off the knife.

 

Riley cannot get those words out of his head. _Suck, push, drown, fuck_ \--

 

Riley feels his world spinning again. He feels like he is on the precipice, remembers holding Jason's hand as gusting winds buffeted his hair, looking down at the very island they're trapped on now from the threshold of the chopper.

 

It's the same vertigo, the same brother, but somehow, both are different now.

 

"Get off me!" he screams. His eyes still won't leave Jason's, even as he contorts his body, even as he struggles.

 

His brother is deeply affected. _"Riley, Riley, I can't do this anymore,”_ he rasps. _“I'll get you out, I’ll… I’ll figure something out, we gotta run, we gotta..."_ His brother is breaking down, and Riley wishes Grant were here because Grant would know what to do. Whenever Jason does this, whenever he loses track, Grant always sets shit straight, always takes care of business, always clearly and precisely lays out what Jason must do for him.

 

He puts his hands up like he's stopping Jason, but his trembling arms are really pulling. It looks good on camera because it really does take a lot of effort to move his brother.

 

 _" **Don't** \--"_ he gasps, and their teeth click. Jason's mouth crushes his and he sees stars from the pain.

 

But pain is okay, because pain will go away someday. The message in Riley's clawing hands is that death will not. Just like the fairy tale princess the pirates have named him after, Jason is reinvigorated by their kiss. When their lips part, Jason has reestablished the cold, impenetrable armor of his role. "You like that, boy? You want some more? Well, how about this?"

 

Riley doesn’t know it, but his brother is channeling the spirit of someone rooted now in his psyche, the face on all the perverse evil he knows. Just like that phantom in his head, Jason leans his pelvis forward, presenting himself to be worshipped, unzipping his cargo pants and dropping a thumb into his boxer’s waistband so all the world can see his heavy cock as it tumbles loose. “If you don’t get to sucking, slut, I’ll just find another hole to fuck -- and believe me when I say you won’t like that.”

 

Riley knows what's coming but he doesn't understand the gravity of it until it's right there in front of him. He sees his brother's cock -- his _brother's cock_ \-- and a horizon of fever-red stretches from cheek-to-cheek, superheating his face.

 

"Fuck you." Riley's wheezing. Through the panting, at least. "I'll..."

 

He thinks of what it'd be like to take his brother's cock in his mouth. The thought hits him hard in the gut, and twists like a knife.

 

Riley screams, "I'll fucking bite it off you put that anywhere near me!"

 

“FOSTER!” yells a voice from the other side of the bars.

 

Riley can tell by the look on his brother’s face that he hates that German accent with a passion. Riley can really empathize. There’s not much else besides to read on Jason’s blank glare, though, especially not as he turns and looks through the bars.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Do not keep ze boss waiting!”

 

Jason leans in and pinches Riley’s lips between his fingers. Riley half expects him to speak directions again, to conspire under his breath. Instead, he growls, “You bite me, I’ll cut your tongue out and fuck you in your bloody mouth.”

 

Riley’s heart stops. He feels helpless and he sways, but Jason’s grip is powerful, steady.

 

All he has to do is give in. Jason’s predatory eyes snap to him keenly, the hunter within him recognizing the submission of his prey. “Give it up, you little faggot. You’ll learn to like it.”

 

Riley wonders if this could really be his brother. The words are so shockingly unsuitable for his handsome face and timbrous voice. But he doesn’t doubt that Jason can be this person.

 

Rather, Riley sees how well this person suits his brother, and admires the evolution of him from the goofball punk he knew into this -- the _apex fucking predator_ , a king the way men should be kings.

 

Jason lifts his chin and gazes imploringly into Riley’s wide open eyes. “Will it be quick and painless?” he asks, stirring Riley’s shirt with the nicking edge of his knife, “or--”

 

"Okay," Riley says through a tight, dry throat. "Quick and painless. Q-Quick and painless please."

 

Riley slowly slumps to his knees. He tries to reach out, but he can't bring himself to -- at first.

 

There's something about the way Jason smells. Like the roaring river Riley ran toward with his first taste of freedom burning in his lungs. Like gunmetal, like the smoke that rises off a corpse after it's been ravaged by lead.

 

It hurts between Riley's legs, but the pain abates when he presses his nose to his brother's stomach, tracing those rock-solid muscles with his lips. His tongue flicks the head of his brother's cock. He tastes salt, and is immediately compelled to suck the rest of the taste out of the organ on his tongue. He hears a moan, and his heart stops when he realizes that it's his, but all sound is too far out of his orbit now. Jason is his center, the taste of him his entire atmosphere. The sambuca slur of their Bangkok bender was nothing compared to this fucking intoxication.

 

Riley finds himself perfecting the art of slipping the edge of his tongue around the circumcision scar on Jason's cock. With every slow, skidding swipe he tastes fireworks on his brother's skin. His stomach feels as if it's been hollowed out. He feels like he might fly away if not for the heavy pull of his aching cock, which needs anchorage or his heart might burst. He finds it against Jason's thigh, which sends through him a starburst of pain as well as a kick of relief.

 

All he can think is, "Fuck." Voices buzz in his ear, but it’s like hearing music underwater -- it’s another world away. Only when he is wrenched away from the cock he has been slurping hungrily, only when he is drooling for more of his brother’s salt on his skin, does he hear his brother’s voice again.

 

“... fuck I-I… don’t know what else to do… _God_ , Riley, w-will you… will you ever be able to forgive…”

 

His apex predator is gone, replaced by this unsure thing who is helping him find his way up to his feet.

 

Riley reasons that none of them will ever get out alive that way.

 

"I..." Riley hears musical jangling in his ears. Jason's wearing dog tags, like Grant does -- an all-American talisman of strength. The name on them says FOSTER. He hopes they work.

 

" _Foster_ ," he reads, in a creaking voice. His laugh is shaky. "My brother's gonna come and gut you when he finds out about this."

 

Riley digs his teeth into Jason's shoulder, thrashing and gnashing like a rabid animal. His hands shoot out, a barrier between them, though he puts no effort into actually displacing himself from his brother’s grip.

 

" _AAAGH._ " Jason throws Riley to the ground, though not with as much force as he could have used. Riley lands without much discomfort, so he lunges up again, prompting Jason to give in to violence and whip him across the cheek with his fist to keep him at bay. "Your pansy-ass white boy of a brother is probably dead in a ditch already!" Jason snaps.

 

Riley is surprised by how quickly, how harshly, his brother tears his pants away. He is so vulnerable so quickly, so cold and exposed there on the ground. It’s disorienting when his brother leans down to his ear to scream, "Get on your knees, bitch, before I have to kick you." When Riley doesn’t immediately move, his voice raises even louder. " **I said get moving**!"

 

"Fuck you, Foster," Riley says derisively, even as his hips lift high up off the ground. There is no controlling how eagerly he rises on his knees, leaning forward to display himself to his brother as completely as he can. "You've heard of Snow White, motherfucker. Everyone knows he always gets the guys who fuck with his tribe." Riley sounds darkly smug (and deeply aroused) as he adds, " _Vaas_ couldn't kill him."

 

That is the word that drives his brother on without a moment of hesitation. It feels like Riley blinks and his boxers have been torn away from his body, exposing the dwindling dregs of his dignity to the world. With one hand, Riley’s brother holds his cheek almost tenderly, meanwhile his free hand is ripping across Riley’s open wounds, tearing into the hole left by the bullet in his shoulder.

 

“Save yourself the sore ass and don’t put up a fight,” Jason tells him, his fingers splaying over the meaty curve of Riley’s ass. This is it, Riley knows. He leans down to press his forehead to his arm, panicking. His whole body feels so fucking tense, he's afraid that he will snap the moment Jason touches him.

 

"I’m not afraid," he snarls between clenched teeth. "Go ahead, hurt me."

 

And he's right -- he does snap. Every pore of his body is already so full of Jason, his nerves overcharged. He feels the push of his brother’s fingers inside his aching hole and his dick tightens, warning him.

 

He only has a second and it's the most mortifying thing. He hears the sound of come splashing to the ground and his thighs are shamefully wet. And yet he still arches into his brother's touch, devouring Jason up to his knuckles, biting his lip to squelch his feral moaning. He sees the blood drain from his brother’s face, Jason’s lips mouthing a silent _fuck_ as Riley pants and heaves on the ground.

 

With Hoyt watching through the monitors, though, Jason remains on point. “You like that, don’t you, bitch?” he growls, raking through Riley’s hair, lifting his face back on his creaking neck. “I see those slutty fucking faces you’re making for me.”

 

The head of Jason’s cock sweeps the sticky space between Riley’s legs. Jason leans over him as he presses into the tight squeeze of Riley’s muscles, sinking his teeth in to his little brother’s neck so he can whisper, _"I'm going to hate myself for ever for doing this to you."_

 

Riley turns his face away the best he can. He can't even stand to hear his brother so close; he wants to disappear through the floorboards and fade away forever.

 

But more than that, he wants to feel his brother stretching him from the inside out. His brother's dick is pressed right there, right where he needs it, and his dick twitches again, his face filling up with steaming hot blood. His legs feel watery, but that doesn't stop them from jumping the first moment his brother's cock catches on taut flesh, unable to push through his clenching insides.

 

" **Fuck** ," Riley screams, rolling his hips, feeling the push of Jason’s hard cock against every throbbing muscle. "Fuck, oh my god, _fuck_."

 

" _Oh, Riley_ ," Jason sighs despite himself, watching the sliding arch of his brother’s back as he twists in his grasp, hungry for more. “That’s right, you fucking love my cock. Take it in -- nice and deep.” Riley can feel his brother’s hands shaking as they grip him by the hips, but that does not pause his long thrusts or soften the solid, heavy weight burrowing deep inside him. Riley still feels punch-drunk, and every new sensation is bathed in a golden glow.

 

"I can't," he moans wetly, his mouth filling as Jason's cock pounds in just a little deeper. He's still too tight to take Jason to the hilt, but Riley is surely trying anyway. "Foster-- FUCK. _Foster_..." There is slick friction on Riley’s throbbing cock before he knows it, pumping in time with the crash of their bodies.

 

"I want you to come for me!" ‘Foster’ laughs, putting on a big show for the camera. At the same time, his hand is stroking down Riley’s sides and up his swelling cock, and with every breath he reassures his brother, _"Shh, shh, I got you."_

 

" _Nooo_ ," Riley groans, unable to open his eyes, unable to close his mouth through each silent scream that Jason coaxes out of him.

 

His dick is still dripping wet from the last time his brother made his guts turn like this. And oh, how Jason's fingers fucking _glide_...

 

"No, fuck." He's begging now, completely entranced in a feverish rock back-and-forth. "Hah oh god oh god oh god _Foster_..."

 

His brother says come and holds him and makes him feel taken care of, so Riley melts back into him with a long, sonorous moan, letting everything he has left go in one life-altering wave of pure, toe-curling bliss. He feels his heart stop and his vision fades. All he knows is the locking of his muscles around his brother's cock. His choking cries echo in the open space of his cell, setting off a chain reaction; he hears expletives and feels sweat dripping on his back as his brother loses his mind to the rhythm of his own body. Jason's seed rushes like a white-hot tide into him, burning through to his core. Riley can't stop his helpless moaning at the heat dripping between his legs, washing into the deepest parts of him.

 

He doesn't even feel connected to his body anymore. He feels like a different kind of beast now, something that has become a slave to the darkest part of his own mind.

 

It's the greatest thrill he's ever rode.

 

Riley slumps into the mess on the floor, unashamed, with an undeniable need to curl into his own shivering pile. Light does not make it through the impregnable dark of his vision. He hears his brother coaxing his zipper into place, the iron bars opening. He hears a disjointed voice asking, _“What have I become?”_

He feels the moment when he is left all alone, but it’s different now. Jason leaves him, but Riley can still feel a vivid connection to him that extends through the thick metal plates of his cage.

 

He knows now that he can never let that connection break again. He needs his brother in a different, more profound way. Moaning and sobbing on the floor, he waits.

 

 


End file.
